


In Tears

by asynje



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-18
Updated: 2010-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-09 13:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asynje/pseuds/asynje
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Tears

He knows how it will end before it begins.

There's a taste buried deep in Viggo's mouth that hints of decay.   
Not in a bad way.   
Just natural.   
Like leaves on the ground.

It still hurts though.   
To feel the ending even before it has begun.

For it isn't even a proper kiss.   
The only reason he's managed to wrangle his tongue into Viggo's mouth is because it's late and there's been too much tequila flowing and Viggo thinks he's just goofing around.

Orlando knows that he will get his kiss.   
Properly.  
He also knows that it'll end in tears.   
His mother used to say that.   
It'll end in tears, Orlando, she'd say and he'd just shrug it off and keep climbing or racing his bike.   
And she'd keep the bottle of iodine ready.   
For his scraped knees.

But that's the past.

This is the present.

And whatever he thinks he might be tasting _ future hurts _ it doesn't change the fact that Viggo's mouth is warm and wet before he manages to pry Orlando's fingers from his face - can't have him running away, now, can we? - and that this is what he wants. He wants Viggo.

The party is still going strong but Orlando is in the garden.   
With Viggo.   
"I feel like some fresh air. Wanna come for a bit, yeah?"  
And Viggo did.

It's easy really. Orlando rambles on about the constellations, and the moon, and the way the colour disappears from the leaves at night, and it isn't an act.   
Not really.   
He does think those things.   
He does wonder.   
He is merely using it consciously now; creating a soft glow that will illuminate other aspects of him, making Viggo take notice. And when they lay down in the grass to look at the stars - I love watching the sky - it's like falling upwards - he knows that it'll happen. He will make it happen.

Viggo is smiling and humming, hair in his eyes and so it's only natural that Orlando removes it, leaning on an elbow, looking down on Viggo's face. And fuck, he's gorgeous, eyes glittering, lips dark and wet. And Orlando kisses him and this time Viggo can't turn away, twist from eager fingers, because Orlando is half on top of him, grinding against him, cock moving against sharp hipbone, his need burning like ice - sharp claws raking up his spine - he knows how this will end.   
He can feel Viggo's resistance softening alongside Viggo's lips till it's all moist heat and openness and Viggo moving against him; moaning.   
And he knew it.

He knew it would be like this.

So hot.

So urgent.

 

He knew how it would all end.

 

Except he was wrong.

It wasn't supposed to hurt. Only it did. And he feels bad for not wanting to wish it had never happened. For standing there looking at Viggo who's angry and hurt and for not feeling - something - other than a vague unsettledness in his stomach that might be guilt and might be irritation.

And when Viggo leaves – and please don't let the door hit you on the way out – Orlando misses the sting of iodine. And he misses Viggo, which is stupid, 'cause he wanted him gone.

And it does end in tears.   
But Orlando isn't crying.

It would be easier if you could only scrape your own knees.

Iodine doesn't work on guilt.


End file.
